Page 64 of Surviving the Merge
I smiled, and, shielding his eyes in the crook of his elbow, Max said, “Hey, keep your eyes to yourself, will ya?”
We both laughed as he jogged to his yard. He waved to Sam as he passed her.
“So, to your shoulders?” she asked, grabbing a handful of my loose hair.
“I’m thinking more mid-back.”
“Oh my god, did Damon get to you? Last week you wanted it cut to your shoulders.”
“No, he didn’t,” I said, a little too fast.
Hands on her hips, she raised a brow.
I crossed my arms. “He said ‘please.’” It came out sheepish. She rolled her eyes and walked by me to enter the house, shaking her head fondly.
Sitting in the dining room, I inquired about Sam’s exhibit while she worked on my hair.
“It’s Thursday night at the Artists’ Expo on Glenwood avenue. There’s a cocktail hour before the show. All proceeds go to the arts program at The Children’s Hospital.”
“When did you start painting? I want to hear it all.”
She could barely stand still as she filled me in; her love for art was palpable. She shared a childlike quality with Damon, but in a different way. Damon was more the surly kid pouting in the corner when he didn’t get his way. Sam was the love-starved child that lit up and purred when stroked or when showed any type of interest. It made me love her even more. It made me protective of her too.
“All done. Go take a look.”
“It looks great,” I said in awe, looking in the bathroom mirror. She took about six inches off.
“You say that like you’re surprised. Did you think I was lying when I said I could do hair?”
Laughing, I placed one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, then dipped her backwards, dropping a kiss to the crease between her brows. She released a startled yelp while gripping my shoulders. “Of course not,” I said, placing her back on her feet. “Okay, I’m exhausted. You know where everything is, so make yourself at home. I’m going to bed.”
Entering the bedroom, I wheeled around holding my chest when the door slammed behind me. “Shit, Damon. What the hell?” Willing my heart rate to slow, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Is that why you were deep in conversation with that fucker? Because you thought I wouldn’t be back? Is this what it’s come to now? I’ve got to pop up on you unexpectedly?” Damon stepped close to me, slipping one hand into the back of my sweats and down my crease, spreading me apart, while his middle finger began circling my rim. He examined my haircut with the other.
“I’m too tired to argue, Damon.” I melted into his touch.
He froze and looked at me intently. Even through the darkness of the room, I could see his eyes turn soulless. “And why is that?” he asked, his finger now rotating between my rim and pulsing against my taint.
“Just take a shower with me, then fuck me already,” I said, annoyed. “Shit. I forgot Sam is here. We’ll need to be quiet.”
He snorted. “I have no intention of sleeping with you tonight. You need at least one more day to recuperate.”
“Damn it, Damon. It’s my body. If I say I’m ready, then I’m ready.”
“Listen, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t push me to use you roughly and then not graciously deal with the repercussions.”
Slapping my ass, he withdrew his hand and walked toward the bathroom. My body clenched around the loss.
Stepping into the shower with me, Damon chose to relax on the marble bench with one leg propped up on the edge. His forearm was slung lazily over his knee while he watched me soap up.
“Are you reading the book as well?” I asked, curiously. So many changes were obviously taking place, and maybe it was time I inquired more about them.
“No, but I listen as Blake reads it.”
“Huh... interesting. So you’re cognitive now when he’s host? And you can hear his thoughts?”
“Yes, and yes.”
